Movin,' Movin,' Movin'
by Ster J
Summary: Christine Chapel has always lived out of a suitcase, and she wonders when it is going to end.


Title: Movin,' Movin,' Movin'

Author: Ster Julie

Codes: TOS; Chapel; "A Moving Challenge;"

Part 1 of 1

Summary: Chapel has always lived out of a suitcase, and she wonders when it is going to end.

A/N: Stephen wrote: "Your challenge, should you chose to accept it, is to write a story where someone is moving and involving packing for that move. They could be leaving the ship. They could be going to the Academy. They could just have decided that the stars in the window in their room are just going the wrong way."

--ooOoo--

My quarters look bare. Then again, they have always looked bare, at least, during my stay here. I only signed on to work on the _Enterprise_ while I looked for Roger.

My poor Roger! By the time we found him in the caves of Exo III, he had already been long dead with only his mental patterns, his knowledge and his memories impressed on an android duplicate. My beloved Roger died to me that day, that terrible day in the caves.

I don't know why I never unpacked more than just the basics even after I told Captain Kirk that I would remain on the _Enterprise._ Somehow this ship was never my home, just a job. Don't get me wrong. I worked well with Doctor McCoy and the rest of the medical staff, I even worked well with Spock when I wasn't tripping over that stupid crush I discovered I had on him during the Psi 2000 virus. But home? No.

I can't tell you _where_ I consider home. My family moved around so much when I was a girl that I always felt like a tourist, not a resident. I guess it's true that "Home is where the heart is." I just haven't found where that is, yet.

Perhaps my heart _is_ my home. Perhaps I carry around my home in my heart. No, that does not sound logical, or does it? Where do I feel most at home? I know I am happy when I learn something new, when I can help a patient feel better, when I can find the cure to some rare, new illness. That makes me happy, but are Sickbay and the science labs my home?

It would probably be easier to answer this question if my family was still living. Dad died when I was twelve, Mom died shortly before Roger went missing, and Sis died in that horrible accident that nearly killed Captain Pike. I was going to build a family with Roger; I was going to finally have a home with him. Life or God or Fate had other plans.

So now, I am packing once more. The _Enterprise_'s five year mission is nearly over, but I am jumping ship early. I was accepted to the accelerated program at Starfleet Medical, and classes will start in two weeks. Captain Kirk wishes me well, Doctor McCoy vacillates between being encouraging and being a bigger grouch than usual, and Spock has not yet said anything to me that wasn't Science Department related.

Well, that is the last of it. Once again, packing did not take long. I will disembark within the hour at Starbase 11 to catch the shuttle back to Earth and start the next phase of my life. I wonder if I will have time to unpack before med school starts, if I will have time to get re-acquainted with Earth. I wonder if I will ever find a place that will feel safe, nurturing, cozy--you know. _Home._

The moving crew is here. They have been busy lately collecting crates that other crewmembers are already shipping home in anticipation of the end of the mission. I hear that the ship will be in drydock for up to three years as they do a complete overhaul. Well, by the grace of God, I should have my MD by then. Maybe we will all find ourselves back together on a shiny new _Enterprise_.

Yeah, right. A lot can happen in three years.

The movers seem happy as they load my few bags and boxes onto the anti-grav sled. They are singing that same old cowboy song Mom and Dad used to sing whenever we would have to move yet again. I sigh and sing along in my head.

_Keep movin', movin', movin' Though they're disapprovin' Keep them dogies movin' Rawhide! _

_Don't try to understand 'em Just rope, throw, and brand 'em Soon we'll be living high and wide. _

_My heart's calculatin' My true love will be waitin', Be waitin' at the end of my ride. _

I stop and dash away a sudden tear. No Roger, no love waiting at the end of this ride. _Stop it!_ I tell myself. It's time to make a new home. I pick up my small carry-on and raise my head high. _My home is in my heart_, I repeat like a mantra. _My home is in my heart._

_Move 'em on, head 'em up Head 'em up, move 'em on Move 'em on, head 'em up Rawhide _

_Count 'em out, ride 'em in, Ride 'em in, count 'em out, Count 'em out, ride 'em in Rawhide! *_

END

_***"Rawhide" by Dimitri Tiomkin & Ned Washington, Copyright Date: June 18,1959**_


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